


The Hole Point

by LivviBee



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anonymous Sex, Daddy Kink, Glory Hole, How Do I Tag, Identity Reveal, M/M, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Panty Kink, Porn With Plot, Recreational Drug Use, Twink Peter Parker, Underage Drinking, Unsafe Sex, blink and you'll miss it though - Freeform, everyone here is a consenting adult
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24052591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivviBee/pseuds/LivviBee
Summary: Peter Parker has a secret hobby which will cause unexpected changes in his life.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 43
Kudos: 243





	1. The Deep Reach and Realization

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this fic is courtesy of peteysboyhole on Tumblr! 
> 
> This is my first published work, although constructive criticism is appreciated, please be kind in your reviews.

Peter slipped out the back of his last class of the day, impatient to blow off some steam. As he exited the lecture hall his brown curls ruffled in the brisk winter breeze, and a deep shiver crawled over his slender body. Heat had been building all day from the base of his spine to his stomach, like his body was conditioned for relief after Organic Chemistry on Thursday afternoon, and the cold wind was a sharp contrast. The small plug in his ass kept him in delicious torment with every grind of his hips on the hard lecture hall seats throughout the day.  _ Fuck! I’m so horny. Why do I love to torture myself like this again? Is there something wrong with me? Or should I start going more than once a week? Maybe that would be crazy? S’not like I have the time between work and school anyway. _

It had been a rough week with finals approaching, but he was finally on his way to his happy place. Although it might have been hard to believe of the shy and nerdy boy, every week without fail Peter found himself kneeling down in the back room of a grubby sex shop off the main drag in Midtown. He had first heard about the store from some creep online, who suggested a trip together through an entirely unsolicited message in his DMs. Peter had been horrified at first, but something deep inside in him was captured by the idea of giving completely anonymous blowjobs to fulfil his oral fixation. The idea took root in the back of his mind, interrupting all of his jerk off sessions, and eventually he mustered the courage to search for gloryholes on his favorite porn site. He went off like a rocket in just a few minutes, stroking himself to the shaky amateur video, imagining what a good little cocksucker he would be, thinking about his knees glued down onto a sticky floor, with a stranger’s sizeable cock proudly jutting through the hole in front of him, just waiting for him to get his mouth around it. 

Peter walked casually into the store and made his way toward the back room. He gave a quick nod to the employee who carded him on his first few visits, then slipped into the darkness behind the curtain hanging in the doorway.  _ I can’t believe I used to be so nervous to come in here. I could barely even muster up the courage to come in, let alone suck off a stranger. _ Anticipation built in his core as he walked toward his favorite booth, keeping his head low beneath his hood, and avoiding eye contact with anyone else in the dimly lit space.  _ Ugh, the last thing I need is someone from school recognizing me here! _ The young man preferred to be in the second row of booths, not so close to the entrance to get all the traffic, but not so far into the room that the opportunities were far and few between. He peeked into both sides of the empty booth before slipping into a stall, and exhaled deeply as he locked the door behind him. As Peter took in his familiar surroundings the tension fell away from his shoulders with every breath, and he started to feel high on the fuzzy edge of lust. Just like in his fantasies the floor was sticky, although the rest of his surroundings were a little rougher around the edges than expected on his first trip. The small enclosed space was simple, with flaking chipboard walls covered in graffiti, lewd suggestions, and phone numbers over black paint. There was a bench seat built into the corner, opposite of the TV fixed into the wall, which played a selection of gay and straight videos for inspiration for those vistitors who preffered to rub one out themselves. The only thing on the chipped concrete floor was a five gallon bucket serving as a trash can. In the wall bridging the TV and bench lay the main attraction; a roughly cut hole with the edges sanded down for comfort, big enough for any man’s prick and balls to fit through. 

Peter took off his backpack, jacket, and shirt and threw them toward the corner bench before losing himself in thought. A few weeks into his trips to the shop, he began to notice another regular by their confident, quick footsteps even before the man sometimes joined him in the connecting stall. _There aren’t too many dicks I want to suck anymore except… His. That perfect, thick, well-groomed cock. If I were braver I’d slip my number through the hole after we finished..._ A shiver ran down his spine and added to the heat already pooling in his stomach, and his half hard dick twitched excitedly as he thought of his favorite stoic mystery man. The boy ran a hand across his chest, pausing to slowly tweak at his nipples before rubbing down across his tight stomach, greedily reaching for the stiffening bulge in his sweatpants. Peter lingered for a moment, slowly dragging his fingers across his hardening package, letting out a quiet hiss of air as he ground the palm of his hand down to prolong the pleasure. _Patience Parker, you don’t want to go off before the main event even starts!_ He picked a random video from the gay selection on the tv before he sat down abruptly on the edge of the bench to wait, moaning as the plus in his ass jolted against his sweet spot. The time passed slowly as Peter rocked back and forth to move the plug inside him, head swirling with anticipation and body loosening as the stress of the week dissipated. Just like every Thursday afternoon, he was listening for those clipped steps to come though the hall in the back room.

It seems like an eternity he waited, mouth watering, achingly hard inside his pants and stifling the whimpers from his throat with one hand across his mouth. Suddenly…  _ Yes!  _ He heard those magical footsteps coming down the aisle. The boy slid down onto his knees and waited there with his head resting in his hands.  _ Fuck, I’m so turned on already! Please, please, let him come into my booth! _ The steps started to slow, and he could see the man’s immaculately clean sneakers pass the doorway before they came to a stop and the stranger entered the connected stall. Separated by only the thin wall, he heard the man lock the stall door and start to unbuckle his belt. Peter let out a small moan at the sound and impatiently stuck a few questing fingers through the hole. A dark and silky chuckle reverberated through the wall before the man bit it back. F _ uck he sounds hot! I wish he would be more verbal to reward me for being a good lil’ cumdump… I’ll just have to make enough noise for the both of us. _ He heard the slow unzipping and rustling of the man’s pants. Finally, the boy felt what he’d been craving, his fingers gently brushing through the patch of hair above the stranger's half hard prick, traveling down his cock to gently cup his smooth balls before returning to the shaft. The man let out a soft exhale as Peter slowly stroked against the velvety head of his dick, feeling him blossom into hardness slowly thrusting against his fingertips. He pulled his fingers back through the hole with a sigh of regret and anticipation, and as he did the man’s cock followed.  _ If there ever was a beautiful cock it’s that one, every time. God it’s so much bigger than mine, what would he think knowing such a petite dicked twink was on the other side of the wall worshipping him? _

Peter’s breath caught in his throat and he moaned slightly at the thought before he said breathily, “you’re a little earlier than usual today Mister.” The man didn’t reply other than a hitch in his breath near the end of his sentence, as his glorious member flopped all the way through the hole, ready to be worshipped by Peter’s eager hands and mouth. He felt himself slipping further into that curious sense of fuzzy serenity, all the thoughts in his head washed away by desire for what was in front of him. The boy took one hand and wrapped it around the base of the shaft, slowly stroking it back and forth, using the firm pressure he’d learned that the man liked. He whined a little and leaned forward, nuzzling against the stranger’s thick and long cock, rubbing precum over his cheeks and chin like an affectionate feline to mark himself in the man’s scent. The smell of natural musk and oddly familiar cologne filled his senses as Peter slowly sucked at the head, hoping to capture some of the salty fluid, before popping the entire head of the stranger's rod into his mouth. He gently sucked before leaning in toward the wall and dropping his hand, encouraging the man to thrust forward into his mouth through his muffled, greedy moaning. The stranger’s cock brushed against the back of his throat, and Peter tried his best to swallow around his own remaining gag reflex. He pulled back slowly, sucking hard and humming in satisfaction before running his tongue over and over around the tip of the stranger’s hardness. The boy was rewarded with a spurt of precum drizzling over his tongue and he smiled dizzily with lips stretched around the man’s shaft at the obvious sign of pleasure. 

Peter reached down to free his dick from the confines of his pants and silky black briefs, whimpering around the man’s cock and high on his own pleasure, trying not to thrust hard against his own hand lest he cum too soon. He slowly circled a finger around the head of his own dick, painstakingly teasing himself to mimic his tongue action on the stranger. As he began slowly bobbing his head and trying to push the man’s thick cock down the back of his throat, he rocked back on his heel to move the plug inside him, and jerked his small dick in a similar rhythm, making sparks of sensation course through his lithe body. Peter kept the pace slow and focused on breathing through his nose while he tried to relax his throat so the man’s cock could slide inside him where it belonged. The stranger’s breath deepened and the instinctual thrust of his hips stilled as he realized Peter’s goal. The change motivated the boy to put in just enough extra effort for his throat to open up.  _ Oh shit oh fuck oh god I’m doing it, I finally have him down my throat! _ His eyes widened in shock even as he moaned around the man, throat tight and vibrating as it surrounded the stranger’s hard cock, trying to keep the position as long as he could, bobbing back and forth without ever letting him out of his throat. Peter’s head spun from lack of air and his hips rutted fruitlessly in the air as he balanced himself with two hands against the rough surface in front of him. The boy pulled back just enough to breathe, letting the man’s tip pop back out of his throat into his mouth with a sound of regret. To his surprise the man let out a drawn out and gravely “fuuuuuuck” from the other side before falling silent, the only sounds in the booth being tinny pornography and the harshness of their breath. 

The boy was spurred on by the uncharacteristic reaction and fell forward onto the man’s cock, struggling to slip it down his throat again as quickly as possible and grabbing his own hardness where it had been neglected between his thighs. The stranger’s cock slid down his throat easier now that he knew the trick of it, adding to his swirling headspace and helping to inch him closer to his own orgasm. He set himself a brutal pace, bobbing back and forth with his hand stripping his own dick at the same rapid rate as he continued rocking back and forth around the plug in his ass. As drool dripped down his chin Peter took his free hand and started rolling the man’s balls around in his fingers, feeling them tighten as the stranger got closer and closer to his peak. The boy moaned deeply around the man’s shaft, feeling higher than he ever had at the idea of his favorite stranger’s cum shooting straight down his throat, and he felt the balls in his hand tighten even more as the man’s shaft slightly expanded in girth. Peter felt like he was coming completely unglued with pleasure, shooting stars down the back of his neck meeting the fireworks in his core, floating somehow inside and outside his body at the same time. The man let out another surprising, deep moan through the partition as his cock began to pulse inside Peter’s mouth and rope after rope of hot cum shot down the boy’s willing throat. Fist a blur over his own cock, Peter reached his own peak feeling like the ultimate cockslut, heat rushing from his head to his toes as he shot his own load across his hand and the sticky floor. The boy pulled back from the man’s cock as he came, surprising the stranger with his movement and extending his orgasm by another shot of hot cum across Peter’s willing tongue. 

His head was still swimming as he groaned again around the stranger’s softening cock and let him slip out of his mouth completely. The boy brought his own hand up to lick up his own cum, adding to the flavors crowding his mouth, and leaned toward the bench to grab some tissues from his backpack to wipe his spend and drool from the floor. The man had started to step back and tuck himself inside his pants, and that’s when Peter saw it.  _ Oh no, oh my god, oh no oh no oh no oh no! _ The unusual sideways angle caused a flash of reflected light to catch his eye, and he looked up to see something very familiar. Tony Stark’s personally customized hotrod red and gold Rolex submariner with access to his AI, JARVIS. Peter was very familiar with the watch, having practically fallen all over himself to ask about it last weekend when babysitting for Mr. Stark’s daughter. His head now spinning for entirely new and horrifying reasons, he quickly shuffled out of sight of the gloryhole and pulled his jacket over his head like a tent. The boy curled in on himself as much as possible and tried to calm down his breathing inside the jacket as his thoughts spiralled.  _ Oh no oh no I’ve been sucking off Mr. Stark basically every week for months. Oh holy shit Jesus Christ oh my God Parker you idiot why did you ever think this was a good idea? Like the horrible inappropriate crush you have on the man wasn’t bad enough?! Oh God he’s going to figure out it’s me and I’m going to get fired and school will find out and I’ll lose my scholarship and have to move home with Aunt May because I love to suck dick! _ Peter was brought out of his spiral by the man’s ( _ Mr Stark’s!!!) _ typical sharp ‘thank you’ knocks on the dividing wall. He reached out with a quivering hand and knocked back, as was their routine, to stop any suspicion. The boy was shaking on the floor still as he could hear those distinct footsteps get farther and farther away. He waited for what seemed like an hour before himself together, tucking his soft dick inside his panties and sweats, and pulling on his shirt and jacket properly. With one last look around the booth, he swung his backpack on his back and rushed out double-time toward his safe and secure dorm, hood pulled up to hide his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks goes to my husband, who beta read this chapter despite a complete lack of interest in slash, or twinks giving anonymous blowjobs.


	2. Hangouts and Hangovers

“Nobody has to know, nobody has to know, nobody has to know, right?!” Peter asked in a panic, safely wrapped up in the fuzzy blanket from the narrow twin bed in his dorm. _Oh fuck, I’ve officially lost my whole mind!_ Thankfully his roommate was out for the evening, leaving time for Peter to catastrophize with one of his best friends. “I can’t believe I’ve been sucking Tony Stark’s dick for months!” he bemoaned into the outdated Starkphone lodged firmly against his ear.

MJ let out a hysterical cackle on the line. “Peter, this is perfect! You’ve been crushing on him hard ever since you started babysitting for his kid and you don’t-“

He cut in with a moan of misery, saying “Oh my fucking God MJ, how? How can I go back to babysitting her? I didn't just put his dick in my mouth, I deepthroated for the first time and he came straight down my throat! He’s going to be able to read all over my face that something is up! I’m going to have to cut the assignment short through the agency and just take the hit to my rating. The whole point-“

MJ laughed over him, “The whole point? Really?” before the anxious boy whined, “MJ, the entire reason I was going to a glory hole was to suck dick with no complications. I didn’t want to know anyone! I just wanted to get my fix and go back to studying for these classes that are gonna kill me. Now I don’t know how I can face him, and I really loved this assignment too.”

“Peter, just don’t say anything to him about it. I know you’re all blushing and shy around him anyway, you’re such a nervous twink he won’t notice a difference,” she said before asking, “how do you even know for sure it’s him?” 

Peter flailed out of his blanket, flipping his legs up against the wall in a stretch that made his pajama shorts pull down his thighs and cup his round ass. “Well, you know my watch-kink?” He asked sheepishly before MJ ribbed back, “You mean your Tony Stark’s watches kink?”

“Ugh, okay! Yes, my Tony Stark’s watches kink. The man at the gloryhole was wearing the exact same Rolex that Mr. Stark personally customized. I just blushed from head to toe when I asked him about it last week. MJ, who else could it have been? It all makes sense, between the sneakers, the cologne, the watch...” 

The line went silent for a moment. “Shit Peter, you really have been sucking Tony Stark’s dick for months! What are you gonna do?” 

He let out a groan as he fell sideways onto the bed. “MJ, I have no idea. I am so fucked.”

“Pshh you wish loser! Just go about your business, you’re right that nobody has to know. Gloryholes are supposed to be anonymous! Like I said, he probably won’t notice anything other than your usual blushing face.” She abruptly changed the subject, “Listen, I’m getting ready to go to an exhibition at the MAD Museum with some friends, you in? We have an extra ticket,” she said in a sing-song voice, “totally free for broke twinks who need a distraction…” 

“Excuse you, I’m traumatized and in my pajamas! I’m in need of wallowing, not in need of a distraction!” Peter exclaimed, before he laughed and gave in, “Alright, alright, you always know how to get me out of my head. What time should I meet you there?”

Later that night Peter was huddled behind a newsstand, hiding from the cold wind outside Columbus Circle station while waiting for MJ when his phone buzzed with a new notification. Snowflakes littered his warm wool hat and freckled the shoulders of his jacket. He pulled his scarf up higher around his neck and took off a glove to fumble in his jacket pocket for his phone, pulling it out and peering at the screen. _Oh holy shit, oh my god, oh my god, it’s a text from Mr. Stark! What if he knows? What if he figured it out earlier?_ His heart skipped and stuttered inside his chest as Peter opened the text with a shaking hand. He sighed out loud in relief as he read the innocuous message, but also felt a small pang of disappointment which he quickly suppressed. 

**Peter, I have an unexpected engagement tomorrow night, I’d need you over around 7. Are you available? Morgan should be pretty easy; she’ll be tired out from gymnastics earlier that afternoon.**

**Hey** ~~ **yy**~~ **Mr. Stark!** **~~Yes please need me I’m super available~~ ** **I’d be happy to watch Morgan tomorrow at 7. I don’t have class the next day so I can stay as long as** ~~**you’ll have me** ~~ **you need.**

**Great, come up to the penthouse like usual, JARVIS will expect you and let you up the elevator.**

~~**Perfect, see you then!** ~~**~~I’m looking forward to it!~~** ~~**Aweso**~~ **Cool, see you and Morgan tomorrow.**

**Great, I’ll let Morgan know! You’re her favorite sitter so I’m sure she’ll be on her best behavior.**

**Thanks** ~~**for having the perfect dick to force down my throat** ~~ **Mr. Stark!**

Peter internally celebrated surviving the exchange without making an idiot of himself, and slid his phone back in his pocket with an air of satisfaction. _Perfect. That wasn’t too gross or needy. You did it Parker!_ He grinned widely at the idea of being Morgan’s favorite sitter. _At least she likes me..._ “Hey! Peter!” His head shot up to see the one and only Michelle Jones crossing toward him, with city lights illuminating the curls sticking out of her winter jacket and puffball hat. He waved his arm up into the cold winter air in acknowledgement before shouting “Hey yourself!” The two college students embraced in a quick hug before making their way toward the museum. 

“So, Peter, any new news?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows at his suddenly flushed face. 

He yelped out, “Oh my God, MJ, you can’t just ask me things like that tonight! We’re supposed to be distracting me, not dwelling on my issues!” The boy sighed before adding, “But since you asked, he literally just texted me and asked me to babysit tomorrow night. My life is like, officially over now. I considered changing my name and moving to another state incognito as to avoid the pain and suffering that-”

The conversation was cut short by their arrival outside the museum where MJs’s posse of new friends from the local art scene were waiting. 

“Alright twinky” the curly haired girl said with a gleeful smirk, “I’ll let you off the hook in the interest of privacy, but we’re talking more about this later.” 

“Ugh, fine!” Peter said before he kidded, “why are we friends again? So you can harass me?” 

She shot back jokingly, “Hmm, probably because you have a humiliation kink!” 

“Oh my God MJ, shut it!” he hissed, “everyone is literally right here!”

One member of the waiting group shot them a curious look before she wisely decided not to ask, and risk MJ’s infamous protective temper. There was a quick round of introductions before the entire group entered the museum to tour the exhibit.

Peter awoke late the next day with his head spinning, laid out on the bed in an unfamiliar room, still wearing the fitted black skinny jeans and green plaid shirt from the night before. _Ugh, what happened last night?_ He slowly blinked into awareness around dry contact lenses, flashes of memory a counterpoint to the headache pounding between his temples. He remembered the museum, and then heading back to one of MJ’s friend’s places, “...just for a few hours, cmon nerd it will be fun...” Someone brought out a bottle of vodka from a cabinet, then shots, then dancing to music from a tinny bluetooth speaker, then more shots and laughter, followed by snorting a few lines on the dirty kitchen counter, and then…. That’s when it all became a fuzzy blur. He looked around the room slowly, viewing the ratty posters and battered paint with suspicion. Peter grabbed for his phone on the upturned milk crate acting as a night stand, and tried to check the time, only to be greeted with an entirely dead screen. _Ugh, why did I start drinking last night?_ He slowly lifted his left hand to look at his watch- _Holy shit, it’s 1:30 in the afternoon?! I really fucked this one up…_

The hungover boy turned his body carefully to the side, only to see his friend also passed out next to him on the bed. He tried to speak but the words stuck in his throat with a dry croak. Peter coughed, and tried again with his voice pitched high. “MJ? Emmmmm-Jayyyyyy! Wake up!” He stretched out a hand and let it fall on the side of her drooling face.

“Hmmm, wha? Pete, it's too early, go back to sleep.”

“MJ it’s 1:30! I missed class this morning and I have no idea where we are!”

The normally composed girl sat up with a start before groaning and grabbing her head. “Ugh, it’s afternoon? I missed my morning class too, my professor is totally not letting me off the hook again. We’re at my friend Roxy’s in Brooklyn, remember we came here with her last night after the exhibition? I tried to slow you down after the first couple rounds, but you kept yelling about your ‘trauma’ and insisting I let you ‘blast your brain with the cheapest vodka students can buy’. I don’t even know when you started with the coke but when I looked over you were totally gone and dancing all over the living room with the whole crew.”

“Oh my God, you’re serious right now? I can’t believe I did that. Shit! Did I say anything about… You know-”

“Not exactly, at least not that I can remember, but you did slur a bunch about secrets and blowjobs, much to everyone’s amusement. They had no idea what a slut was hiding inside you, it’s like they all found out your secret twink identity hiding under the facade of a respectable nerd.”

Peter flushed a bright scarlet. “Great… I wonder how many of them are still here?” 

“Well, a bunch went home around 2:30 in the morning, but a few people were so messed up they crashed here instead. Honestly I’m surprised we ended up in a bed instead of on the floor.”

“Ugh, great.” Peter said before he rolled off the bed onto the blessedly solid floor. “Time to go face the music and find something for my head.” He dragged himself off the floor and shakily jammed his dead phone into the pocket of his jeans before stumbling down the stairs. The boy tried a few doors before finding the bathroom with it’s golden prize of a bottle of Tylenol inside the medicine cabinet. He gulped down a few with water from the sink held in his cupped hands, then stuck his entire head under the faucet. Peter sighed in relief at the cool sensation on his aching head, then stood back up with great reluctance before turning off the water. He sat on the bottom steps, calling back up the stairs to MJ. “Bathroom’s free!” An answering groan was the only response before she clumsily pattered down the stairs to his location. 

“Thanks Peter” she said quietly, usual sarcasm stifled by her morning hangover. 

He got up from the stairs and wandered into the empty kitchen. Rummaging around the cabinets he found a glass and gulped down as much water as he could stand from the kitchen sink. MJ wandered into the room. “Hey, I found a note. Looks like Roxy had to work at noon and her roommates headed out earlier this morning. She says to go ahead and lock up when we leave.” Peter grunted at her in acknowledgment and grabbed his coat off the rack by the back door. 

“I have to head out MJ, I have to work tonight and-” _Oh shit._ Peter’s face screwed up as his anxiety came back to him in one fell swoop, and suddenly he felt the urge to vomit for entirely new reasons. “MJ I really have to go! We’re all the way in Brooklyn and I have to get cleaned up! I can’t even afford to get an Uber back to campus!”

MJ gave a lazy wave of her hand, “go ahead Peter, I’m going to crash here for a while longer. Roxy’s casa es mi casa after all. Text me when you get a charge on your phone!” She came closer and ruffled his matted curls up.“Try not to freak out too hard tonight. You know you can call me if you need me, right?”

Peter just nodded and slung on his coat before grabbing the door handle. “Will do MJ, but I really have to go now, it’s already 2:15.”

The subway was oppressively hot, and Peter felt like he was still sweating last night’s vodka out of his pores into his clothes. _Phew, I really need a shower. I think I’m the gross guy in this subway car right now, and that’s never who I want to be!_ Even with his coat unzipped and hat tucked away, an unpleasant layer of moisture coated his body, making his shirt and skinnies cling to his clammy skin, and flattened curls stick to his still pounding head. _Only three more stops Parker, you can totally make it without hurling!_ Peter chuckled at his own false enthusiasm before suppressing a series of dry heaves; the fellow transit riders surrounding him pointedly kept their gazes away from his general vicinity. 

When he finally made it back to his dorm, he plugged in his phone and said a quick greeting to his apathetic roommate before he headed into the ensuite bathroom with his towel and shower caddy for a much needed pampering session. The pounding in his head was finally starting to subside, and the greasy slice of pizza he’d grabbed from a carry-out on his way home had helped to settle the churning in his stomach. Peter cranked the shower handle to a scorching temperature before getting in with his basket of products. The boy exhaled in relief as the water pounded against his back, releasing the tension between his shoulders. _Ahhh, finally. That’s one thing this dorm has going for it, water pressure like Niagara Falls._ He reached for the shampoo and quickly scrubbed and rinsed his tangled mop before slathering on his deep conditioner and slapping a shower cap on top of the whole mess. _That’s gonna be a bitch to detangle, note to self: Do not get fucked up and dance without doing something to your hair before you sleep!”_

As he poured his favorite herbal scented body wash onto his exfoliating washcloth, the smell reminded him of- _Oh. I guess I know now it reminds me of Mr. Stark, not Mr. Big-Dick Mystery Man._ He gave a small sigh as the memories conflicted and blended together simultaneously. Memories flashed through his head of all of his interactions with Tony Stark. Peter idly scrubbed along his lightly muscled chest, thinking about Mr. Stark smiling and laughing at a nerdy joke Peter had shyly shared one day in passing, thinking of Mr. Stark silently cumming all over Peter’s face as he jerked the man’s cock through the gloryhole, brain working overtime to reconcile the conflicting images. As he moved the washcloth down his abdomen, he realized suddenly that he had become achingly hard and needy as he reminisced. _Is it… Fuck, is it even okay for me to jerk off to this now that I know his identity?_ Peter bit his lip in indecision, body wash forgotten and coursing down his lithe body, caressing him like a ghostly lover. _Fuck it! Like MJ said, nobody has to know…_ Peter flung his cloth onto the edge of the tub and traced both hands around his sensitive nipples before sliding one down the length of his torso. His mouth fell open in a silent moan as he cupped his small compact balls in one hand, before slowly working the same hand up his dick in a loose teasing grip. White fire ran down his spine and branched out to each of his erogenous zones like the forks of lighting in a balmy summer rainstorm. A loud thready moan threatened to tear out of his throat, and he quickly slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle himself so nobody in the dorm suite could hear. The boy hunched forward, taking the hand from his mouth to brace against the shower wall as he quickly jerked himself, streams of water and heat from the showerhead running down his back. Peter’s hand frantically moved on his shaft, balls already tightening, replaying his own personal Tony Stark highlights reel in his head. Jerking off Mr. Stark’s huge cock, worshiping his sizable manhood with his tongue, licking sensually across his large balls before sucking them one at a time into his mouth, drinking down his cum so many times… Peter came hard with a whimper caught in this throat as his world whited out. He panted as he came back to himself, carefully turning toward the water to make sure all of his own spend washed down the drain. His mind was blissfully blank for once as he grabbed for his previously abandoned washcloth and finished giving himself a thorough scrub down. He finally took off the shower cap and quickly detangled his hair with a wide tooth comb before rinsing out the majority of the conditioner before hopping out of the shower to get dressed for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really sure about this chapter. This is my first time writing any kind of dialog and it just seems.. off to me? Feel free to leave feedback in the comments! <3


	3. Tony Stark, Billionaire, Parent, Philanthropist, Pervert?

Tony Stark was bent over his phone, rotating holographic displays in front of him completely forgotten. His attention was occupied by the last text messages exchanged between himself and his daughter's sinfully attractive babysitter. 

**Great, I’ll let Morgan know! You’re her favorite sitter so I’m sure she’ll be on her best behavior.**

**Thanks Mr. Stark!**

_ That boy is a godsend with Morgan. So many sitters from the agency washed out when confronted with her sass and smarts. _ The man could admit to himself that his daughter had a similarly weary attitude when dealing with people who just couldn't keep up intellectually.  _ It's honestly a wonder they found a genius to send and keep her occupied.  _

Tony had been struggling with his fixation for the young college student from the moment they met.  _ How could I not be instantly attracted to him? Soft brown curls just waiting to twine around my fingers, his brilliant mind, that blushingly shy personality, those big doe eyes blinking up at me through long lashes, oversized soft sweaters draping his slim figure that I could just grab and pull him in for a kiss on those pretty pink li- _

"Tony?"

The billionaire startled to attention as his Pepper called out his name, flicking the screen of his phone off and setting it face down onto the workbenches in from him. 

"Hey Pep!" He blurted out, injecting false cheer into his voice. "Sorry I was completely lost in thought. You brought Morgan back from gymnastics already? It's only..." 

She replied, slightly worried expression marring the symmetrical planes of her face. "Tony it's 6:00 already. Are you feeling okay? I can keep her this weekend if you're getting sick."

It had only been a year since their high profile divorce littered the news, and while they agreed that their romantic relationship was over, they were trying to build back an amicable friendship for their daughter's sake. 

"No!" The word rang out awkwardly in the room with an undertone of desperation. Not seeing his daughter every day was one of the hardest parts of the transition. "Just... no. I'm fine Pepper. Like I said, just lost in thought untangling a knotty problem. I have big plans with little-miss tomorrow morning. Gotta make up for being out tonight on business. Besides, don't you have a date tonight with, who was it, Chuck?” 

“Yes, I do have a date with Charles” the redhead said, icy emphasis on the proper name, “but you know Morgan always comes first.”

Tony replied, face tight at the slight implication that his daughter wasn’t his first priority. “I said it’s fine. I’ve got to head upstairs anyway and get Maguna set up so I can go take a shower. Peter will be here soon anyway.” With effort he softened his face and tone. “Why don’t you stay for a few? You can get in some snuggles on the couch while I get ready. I bet I could even scare up a glass of rose?”

Pepper laughed, barely a huff of a thing, and agreed to “one glass Tony!” The two of them walked out of his lab together with a forced casual air, discussing their pride and joy and her gymnastics prowess. 

“J.A.R.V.I.S., what time is it?” Tony asked of his AI, sensors in every room ready to catch the slightest query.

The AI’s response echoed around the tiled bathroom walls. “Good evening sir, it is 6:30 PM.” 

Tony stopped the multiple jets in his luxurious shower with a wave of his hand, initiating the drying sequence he had designed. Jets of heated air coursed over across his skin, quickly blowing the water off of him from head to toe. The man caught a transparent glimpse of himself in the mirrored window outside the shower wall and paused to assess himself.  _ Full head of hair? Check. Upper body courtesy of hard work in the lab and my personal trainer? Check. Killer smile and air of suave sophistication? Check an- Ugh.  _ Tony stopped his preening in the mirror and poked mournfully at the slight padding around his stomach before he shook his head and stepped out of the shower, moving toward his obscenely large walk-in closet. 

The pouting billionaire lingered over his options before picking out a favorite charcoal grey Tom Ford suit from his collection along with a white dress shirt. He applied some vetiver scented cologne and dressed with his usual efficiency. Fastening his favorite Rolex securely on his wrist as he exited the dressing area, Tony paused by the sink for a moment to apply some product and comb his hair using the mirror. He let out a sigh at the sight of the grey hair invading his temples, staring into the mirror like it could reveal the answers to his problems in life...

Pepper had started quietly dating about six months after the divorce, but Tony still couldn't wrap his admittedly brilliant mind around the concept. Besides the fact that he didn't have a lot of experience dating with a stable relationship in mind, divorcing from the woman he thought he’d spend the rest of his life with had been a large blow to his confidence. Earlier in life he would have drowned his sorrows in sex and liquor, but the thought of exposing his daughter to that kind of lifestyle was unthinkable. 

Months of porn and his right hand later, Tony had been starved and aching for a little human touch. A quick search online for anonymous sexual encounters led him to the concept of gloryholes. Just a few discrete queries later, and he was set with a list of locations to visit around the city, all assured to be discrete and off the record. No groupies, no fans, no tabloid tell-alls the morning after. Just a firm hand or hot, wet mouth waiting to suck him down like quicksand into hedonistic delight. 

At first Tony would only visit in the dark of night, but as time went on and he identified the most discreet venues, the billionaire came up with his own protocols for visiting. First, dress down. Way down in fact, with his only concessions to vanity being his designer watch and sneakers. Second, only visit when you have a plausible reason to be in the area. Meetings, coffee shop visits, and casual jogs being perfect excuses. Third, keep the timing and locations random. No need to draw suspicion by regular visits to odd parts of town. 

Tony was dressed casually for a jog on a humid afternoon in early fall when it happened. He had been taking his usual route around Midtown Manhattan which was only one block off from his favorite haunt masquerading as an adult bookstore. It had been weeks since the billionaire had a chance to slip away from his responsibilities, and the temptation was becoming unbearable. He made the split second decision, looking over his shoulder for any errant paparazzi before slowing his pace, and ducking around the corner in the right direction. He stopped at a Starbucks for plausible deniability, ordering a tall half caf skim macchiato and paying cash, cap pulled low over his face and sunglasses disguising his features.  _ That’s the one advantage to celebrity, nobody expects me to be wearing a tracksuit in a coffee shop on a Thursday afternoon.  _ He left the coffee shop, walking away casually and sipping his drink. As Tony sauntered toward his destination he could feel anticipation rising in this pit of his stomach, and he hid his trademark grin behind the cup. After a few minutes he reached the discrete storefront and slipped inside, navigating the aisles with ease of long practice as he headed toward the back room, and discarding his now empty cup in the trash by the counter. 

As he pulled aside the long black curtain separating the back room from the shop, he bumped into a slim and slightly shorter figure. The shaft of light penetrating the gloom glossed over familiar brown curls and delicate features.  _ Is that… is that Peter? _ Tony paused in shock for a moment, watching the boy blink owlishly in the bright fluorescent light from the shop. 

“Umm, ex- excuse me I- I was just leaving.” Peter stuttered, head bent down in shy submission. 

Tony almost replied “No problem kid” out of sheet instinct, and what a disaster that would have been! Instead he only grunted in acknowledgment before roughly pushing past the delicate boy in front of him. The man broke his own routine and rushed into the first empty booth he could find, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him. The only sound in the stall was his harsh breathing and all he could feel was the spinning of his shocked head as the interaction assimilated to his genius brain.  _ Peter Parker. My adorable twink babysitter... Was here? I just saw him HERE?  _ Tony’s mind was struggling to absorb the information.  _ Did he recognize me? God that would be a fiasco. Was he… oh my god what was he back here to do? Suck or suckee? _ The man was haunted by his own mind and vivid imagination. 

Ideas he couldn't hold back flew to the forefront of his mind- Peter on his knees, willingly accepting any cock through the hole- Peter standing proud, head thrown back in ecstasy and mouth in an ‘o’ of pleasure as he came inside the anonymous mouth on the other side of the booth. Worst of all, Tony began to picture himself as the other partner. Peter’s pink lips stretched around his shaft- Wet, tight heat surrounding his cock as he thrust shallowly through the gloryhole into the boy’s willing mouth- Tony himself uncharacteristically on his knees in the booth, accepting Peter’s dick through the wall. The older man’s attraction to the boy was blooming into an all-consuming lust as he stood in conflict inside the stall. 

Tony suddenly realized he was painfully hard, his long thick cock rising up against the soft fabric of his jogging bottoms. He sat down on the bench and began to palm himself through the fabric.  _ This is so wrong. You’ve been trying to stop yourself from jerking off to this kid all summer, are you really going to cross this line? _ The man sighed as he realized the answer, spitting in his hand before pulling his shaft out with a greedy grip.  _ This can be the only time, better make it good! _ Tony let his head fall back against the graffitied corner, slowly pumping his hand up and down, imagining Peter’s delicate hands wrapped around his girthy member. He licked the thumb of his left hand and slowly swirled the spit slick digit around his glistening head, smearing saliva and precum around his most sensitive point. Tony muttered under his breath, losing himself to the fantasy. “Fuck, that’s it kid, rub that tongue around my cock, be a good boy and get me wet.” The man licked the palm of his hand and surrounded his head with it, slowly swirling and imagining the boy sucking the head slowly past his tight pink lips. “Fuck.” He started to lose patience and began to jerk his cock faster. Precum was spurting out of the head of his prick and sliding down his veiny shaft at the thought of thrusting into Peter’s sweet mouth. Tony couldn’t believe he was already riding the edge just from a few strokes of his palm, imagining his babysitter sucking on his cock with abandon. The man let his imagination conjure the ultimate image, Peter on his knees, looking up at him in that shy adoring way through his long brown lashes, quietly begging, mouth open as much as possible while he spoke “Please Mr. Stark, please cum on my face- Mark me with your cum Mr. Stark- I’m yours Daddy-” Tony came with a surprised and choked groan as the forbidden word populated from his own subconscious. Thick white cum came pulsing out of his cock, running down his knuckles as he drew out his orgasm as long as possible. 

“Fuck.” Tony exhaled in the aftermath, shame making his way back into his mind as his lust ebbed.  _ I just came faster than I have in years, even faster than that time with Pepper and the strap-on. I wonder if I came back next Thursd- No. Stop it Tony. You know this can be the only time, and you know why! _ Tony had a bad habit of falling for the wrong people. Falling in love with Rhodey in college almost ruined their friendship, being hung up on Obi left him blind to the man’s manipulations in his own business, and his ill fated flirtations with Christine Everhart led to that damning expose on his involvement in the weapons industry. Even his relationship with Pepper, though he could never regret it because of their daughter, ended up crashing and burning. It was part of why he had so many one-night stands in the past, and now relied on anonymous encounters; just another patented and selfish Tony Stark protection method. 

The man continued to argue with himself as he rummaged in his pockets for the napkins he’d swiped during his Starbucks run. Cleaning himself up and throwing the balled up napkins into the provided bucket, he quickly tucked his spent cock back inside his pants and stood up. Tony fussed with his clothes, making sure his hat was pulled back down securely and straightened his crooked sunglasses before leaving the booth with a final thought.  _ One time Tony. That’s it, it was just this one time.”  _

If only that had been true, Tony wouldn’t be so deeply ashamed of himself every time he faced Peter. 

“Sir, it is 7:00 PM and Mr. Parker is here.” Tony was pulled rudely from his thoughts of the boy for the second time that evening. The man ran through the latest schematics for the new Starkphone in his mind, attempting to quell the erection that had risen in his suit pants. As he did, the typical rush of guilt and nervousness shot down his spine; the idea of seeing the pretty young twink standing in the foyer was electrifying to his nerves. Hard-on subsiding, Tony finally left the bathroom to go find the object of his fantasies and secret shame. By the time he made his way down the stairs, the vestibule was empty, but he could hear Pepper’s tinkling laugh from the living room. Tony paused by the doorway to the large, open concept space that made up the majority of the bottom floor of the penthouse. 

“So, Peter. I’m so glad to have met the famous babysitter that Morgan and Tony have told me so much about.” Tony could detect a slightly predatory note in her tone and felt alarm rising in him. 

He couldn’t believe the sassy tone he heard in Peter’s response. 

“Well, I hope it was all good things. I wouldn’t want you to hear anything unflattering about lil’ old me.” The boy’s tone changed to genuine fondness as Tony gaped, hidden behind the doorway. “I truly enjoy the pleasure of their company, they’re both so brilliant and sweet.”  _ The kid thinks I’m sweet? And who the hell did all that sass come from? It couldn’t have been  _ _ my _ _ Peter? _

Pepper let out another musical laugh. “No, no, it’s all been good, I promise. Morgan never shuts up about “her Petey” and Tony sings your praises, as a babysitter, every chance he gets.”  _ Did I detect a little hostility in the middle there? _

Peter laughed in response, sounding campy and false like he’d never heard before. “Well, I’m glad that I don’t disappoint, you know, as a babysitter.”

Tony couldn’t stand it anymore and practically rushed into the room, slowing his pace at the last second as he rounded the corner. “Hey guys! Having all the fun in here without me?”

“H- Hi Mr. Stark.”  _ There is the shy boy I usually see. _

Pepper took in the change in Peter's demeanor and replied with a carefully neutral tone, “Hello again Tony. You’ve certainly cleaned up nicely tonight. Where are you headed again? To drinks with the Japanese ambassador?” 

Tony didn’t respond at first, too busy drinking in the sight of Peter in the living room. The slender boy was wearing those black skinny jeans Tony so loved, but with his glorious globes obscured by a long, draped, pink sweater. The man could see just a peek of the boy’s clavicle under the oversized sweater’s collar. 

He blinked back to awareness and replied to her with artificial levity, "That's right Pepper, Japanese ambassador. Is Morgan in her room?"

Peter and Pepper responded simultaneously, "Yes." Both startled a little, an odd look coming to their faces. 

"Well Pep, sounds like it's about time for you to head out.” Tony's tone was just this side of polite as he spoke. “Wouldn't want you to miss your date with Charles." 

The redhead gathered herself and nodded, setting down her empty wine glass on the coffee table. "You're right, I'll just say goodbye to Morgan and let myself out." 

"Bye Pepper, it was so nice to meet you!" Somehow Peter infused his voice with genuine sincerity. 

"You too kid!" She shot back, an undertone of sarcasm polluting her polite tone as she left the room. 

Tony felt a guilty flush creep up his face at the pointed phrasing, so close to what he calls Peter in life and in his fantasies. 

Quiet crept into the room, leaving an awkward silence as the man and the boy were left alone. They both started to talk, then stopped with embarrassed grins. Tony took a steadying breath around the guilt in his stomach and started to speak, only for Morgan to run into the room with the boundless energy only a six year old can possess.

“Petey!” 

Morgan ran straight into Peter, who intercepted her with a low grunt as she rammed into his stomach, transforming the girl’s tackle into a spinning hug.

“How’s my favorite gal today?!” Peter’s smile was wide and genuine as he spun around with Tony’s daughter held in his arms. 

Morgan spouted a stream of consciousness chatter at her favorite sitter, and the boy responded to each phrase with attentiveness. 

Tony checked his watch and realized with a curse that he was running late.

“Alright you two, Daddy has to run.” 

Tony’s face froze in dawning horror at what he had just said, at what he might have just revealed to Peter. The younger boy thankfully didn’t seem to notice the slip, simply replying “Okay Mr. Stark! I’ll hold down the fort here till you get back.”

Relief flooded through his system like a shot of whiskey that he hadn’t been caught, and he called Morgan over for a goodbye hug and kiss. “Be good for Peter okay?” He ruffled her shoulder-length brown hair and booped her cute button nose. “I’ll be back late tonight, and good little girls named Maguna should already be asleep by then.”

She groaned and drew herself up to her full height, throwing her hands on her hips. “Daaaaaad it’s Morgan. M. O. R. G. A. N. I’m not Maguna anymore.” In a fit of characteristic maturity, she had decided a few months ago that she was too old for silly nicknames. 

Tony’s lip crept up in a bittersweet smile. “Okay then, good little girls named Moooorgan should be asleep by then.” 

Morgan giggled as Tony petted down her mussed hair, and knelt down to kiss her goodnight. Tony released her from his arms and said, “Alright Pete, I’m trusting you with my most prized possession.” Tony shook his finger at the boy in mock scolding and said, “You be good too!” 

Peter just laughed as he beckoned Morgan over to the couch. “Don’t worry Mr. Stark, she’s precious to me as well. I’ll always take good care of her.”

The man smiled and waved, then turned to head toward his private elevator. As he walked away, he felt a sense of contentment hearing Morgan’s quiet giggles and Peter’s soft voice together.  _ That’s a dangerous feeling Tony Stark.  _ Tony shoved his own thoughts out of his mind, and he rode the elevator down to the garage where his driver Happy was impatiently waiting. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled a lot with this chapter and Tony's characterization. I hope you all enjoyed it! 
> 
> The idea of air jets in the shower comes from the So Much Trouble series by TellMeNoAgain. I highly, highly recommend it!


	4. Double the pleasure, double the…?

It was late, almost three in the morning when Tony stumbled his way into the penthouse foyer from his private elevator. Dinner and drinks had gone on way longer than he had anticipated. As expected the lights were turned down low, and the only sound he could hear was the droning of some nature program on the screen in the living room. Tony stopped to shuck his jacket and shoes, draping the jacket neatly over the entryway rack and kicking his Ferragamo loafers under the bench. He silently padded his way toward Morgan’s room, cracking the door to see the light of his life fast asleep in her bed, mounds of shadowy stuffed animals almost hiding her slight form. He shut the door with a soft smile gracing his features before making his way into the living area. 

Peter’s prone form lay asleep on the couch, sprawled out on the comfortable piece of furniture like it was his own bed. Flickering light from the tv cast an intermittent glow over his delicate features, the only part of him truly visible under the thick blanket pulled up to his neck. Tony traced the profile of his jaw and mouth with greedy eyes, taking full advantage of the chance to stare without being caught. The boy was just so pretty after all, and out of all the things he didn’t know, this one was probably least likely to hurt him. 

After a handful of stolen minutes Tony gave up his silent watch and started on his next mission: waking Peter up without coming off like an absolute creep who’d been silently staring at him. _Alright Tones, you got this. Just shake the kid on the shoulder, quick and business-like!_ As he reached out to touch Peter’s shoulder, the boy’s mouth fell open and a breathless little moan emerged, followed by a mumbled statement in his sweet voice, husky with sleep and desire. 

“Ooo Mr. Stark that feels so good…”

Tony jumped back like he’d been burned, knocking his legs against the coffee table and narrowly avoiding falling backwards, ass over teakettle. _Did he just? Is he? Was that my name? He’s dreaming about me?_ The man shifted around the table and reassessed the situation. From his new viewpoint he could see Peter’s hips shifting into the air, moving the blanket on top of him ever so slightly with each thrust. Little moans and grunts dropped from his mouth, and in them the man heard his name slurred once more.

“Mmm Mr. Stark, yes, fuck me...”

In a swirl of shock and lust, Tony’s brain went completely blank like a holo-table during a hard reboot. 

Tony blinked. For a long moment, he just stood there and continued blinking. Finally it seemed like he could process regular human thoughts again. Before him Peter’s hips had started moving faster, grinding down onto his custom Italian leather couch. A flush had risen over the boy’s cheeks, and his breaths were coming out in fast little pants. _Should I do something?_ It had been a long time since Tony had a wet dream, and he wasn’t sure what would be worse for Peter: waking up on Tony’s couch with a lapful of cooling jizz, or being woken up while hard and panting. As his brain continued to come back online, Tony realized that he was also hard and practically panting, pressing the palm of his hand against his aching cock. The man decided that discretion was in fact, the better part of valor, so he began to creep silently backwards away from the couch. Peter’s hips were beginning to stutter and his breathing was uneven. A breathtaking flush was rising to his cheeks as Tony made his retreat, moving one foot behind the other, still spellbound by the boy grinding his hips right there in front of him. It looked like the boy was riding the edge, and Tony wanted desperately to see him finish. 

“Fuck kid...” he whispered to himself. 

Peter’s undulations were the biggest distraction of his life, little moans and whimpers and bucks of his hips taking up all the processing power his mind had to offer. What happened next was burned into his brain with slow-motion replay. Peter’s breath caught in his throat and his erratic, shuddering thrusting came to a peak before the boy froze in place. The most pornographic whimpers Tony had ever heard cascaded out of his mouth, quieting as his hips finally stilled. The boy murmured gently with his face still half hidden by the surface of the couch, a gentle smiling curving across his pink lips as his breathing pattern slowed to normal. 

Tony’s cock was twitching, aching granite trapped in the leg of his suit pants. He could feel his heartbeat pulsing from tip to base, his core clenching in time with his own silently heaving chest. The man made a beeline for the half-bath just off the open living space. He still moved as quietly as possible, practically sprinting on mercifully silent feet toward the open door. Tony skidded inside the small room, sliding the pocket door shut with shaking hands, fumbling the latch closed. He didn’t even bother to flick on the overhead light, not wanting to wake the sleeping boy outside. Tony gripped the edge of the sink, making shameful eye contact with himself in the dim glow of a night light as he ripped his pants open, shoving a greedy hand down to clutch at his throbbing cock. He hissed in relief at the soothing, maddening, perfect pressure of his hand around his shaft.

“Fuck- fuck- fuck-” He grunted the words under his breath with each stroke up and down his generous length. Peter’s moans and whimpers were still echoing around his brain, competing for space with the rhythmic motion of his perfect ass under the blanket that clung to his body, and the look on his face as he came. Tony screwed his eyes shut to aid in the fantasy, trying to overwrite the quietly echoing panting in the room with Peter’s vocalizations. He lost himself in the fantasy of what could have been, thinking about how he could have taken control of the situation, spun it into a win for them both if he was just a little bolder. Subvocalized filth spilled from his lips as he furiously jerked his leaking cock, chasing the volcanic orgasm building with white heat and pressure from his core. 

“Shoulda woke him up with a hand on his ass, pushed him down onto the couch, shoulda gave him just a lil more friction… Bet he woulda woke up then, moaning my name like a dirty little slut, spreading those pretty lips open for just me, coulda flipped him right over and climbed on top, held him down by those delicate little wrists and rubbed us together, shown him the real thing is better than any dream...”

Tony’s balls were already drawing up and tightening, every part of his fantasy hitting him like punches of pleasure straight to his core. Only a few harsh strokes later he was teetering on the edge, thinking back to the boy’s pretty moans and o-face to try and push himself over. All he could hear over the lust roaring in his ears were his own words and the slick sounds of his hand moving like a blur over his cock.

“Fuck kid, fuck you’re so pretty-”

“Uhhh, Mr. Stark?”

_Yesss, that’s it- Wait! What?_

Tony’s eyes flew open in disbelief only to meet Peter’s doe brown gaze in the mirror. Blushing shock was written all over the boy’s face as he steadied himself against the half open door, living room lights filtering a halo around his silhouette and fluffy sleep mussed hair. Tony’s hand tightened on his cock in instinct over the surprise, pushing him over the edge in the same second as his shocked inhalation. Lighting heat ran through Tony’s veins and a choked back moan caught in his throat as jets of cum spurted over his hand onto the concrete countertop. Tony’s knees went weak and he swayed toward the sink, gasping and grasping wildly for anything to say, anything at all that could make this situation less humiliating and put the boy at ease. The awkward silence stretched on, but before he could think of anything to say, Peter’s eyes filled with tears as he began to profusely apologize, whirling around in the opposite direction and sliding the door shut behind him with such force that it bounced back open. Tony could see the boy in the mirror, facing away from the bathroom, hands lifted to his face like he was hiding behind them in shock, or in shame. 

“Oh my God Mr. Stark I’m so sorry, I really am- I swear I didn’t know you were in here- the light was off and I thought I must have shut the door- and I really needed to clean- I just, I just really needed the bathroom so I ran straight in here and oh God I’m so sorry-”

While Peter babbled his apology Tony roughly swabbed himself and the counter down with a hand towel before shoving his sensitive cock back inside his trousers and throwing the towel into the hamper built into the wall. He took a deep, calming breath and spun around slowly to face the music, keeping his voice as relaxed as possible while internally he was screaming.

“Peter, it’s fine, it’s okay.” 

Peter continued to stammer his way through a litany of “sorry” and “I swear didn’t mean to.”

Tony spoke again, in a firmer voice. “Peter!”

The boy finally stopped, back shuddering as he breathed in and out.

“It’s okay, Peter it’s just- It’s fine. This is an understandably awkward situation, but it’s definitely not your fault, not by a longshot. I really shouldn’t have been in here, doing that, and really really shouldn’t have been in here, doing that, with the lights off and the door unlocked. This is one-hundred percent my fault kid.”

Peter’s shoulders stilled. “Kid?” He repeated, with some undertone in his voice Tony had never heard before. The boy’s hands moved from his face to clamp down on opposite arms, hugging himself tightly as he gulped in desperately, trying to control his breathing. 

Tony waited for him to continue, but the painful silence just stretched out between them. He waited for another handful of heartbeats but Peter was still silent. Finally the boy began to turn, rotating slowly where he stood. Tear tracks ran over his creamy cheeks, his stubbornly jutted chin at odds with the nervousness in his brown eyes as he visibly gathered himself to speak.

“You always call me kid Mr. Stark. But I heard- I heard you saying kid while you were-” Peter took another deep breath before the most damning sentence of Tony’s life flew out of his mouth. “Iheardyousaykidwhileyouwerejerkingoff!”

Tony’s gut flipped like he had missed the last step while descending down a staircase. His nails bit into the palms of his hands as he clenched them by his sides, breathing shallowly like a frightened rabbit. 

Peter’s face scrunched in determination as he continued. “Mr. Stark, were you- Were you thinking about me?” The last word squeaked out from between his lips. 

“Fuck.” The word practically fell out of Tony’s mouth, completely bypassing the filter Tony was desperately trying to build, brick by mental brick. 

Peter blushed scarlet, and- _Oh. Well the last time he heard me say that was five minutes ago when I had my dick out._ Tony realized he was just standing there staring at Peter’s beautiful flush, silently comparing it to the boy’s reddened face as he rutted into the couch, instead of composing an answer. _C’mon Tony, any sensible, adult excuse will do._

Instead what left his mouth was a simple answer followed by a confession.

“Yes.” Tony sighed. “The secret’s out Pete, I was absolutely thinking about you.” Once he started talking it was hard to stop. “I think about you a lot, kid, and I’m sorry, I know it’s totally inappropriate, not to mention totally cliche. Lonely divorcé develops an attraction to his hot ungrad babysitter? It’s been done so many times before and always ends in disaster.”

Peter’s jaw was practically on the floor as Tony spoke with bitter self-doubt coloring his words. 

“I’ll completely understand if you aren’t comfortable working for me anym-”

Tony was interrupted by Peter’s sudden and hysterical laughter. The boy was practically doubled over, arms wrapped around his ribs as he dissolved toward the floor. Peter was laughing so hard he could barely speak, but tried to get the words out anyway. 

“Mr. Stark!” A peal of giggles left him. “Mr. Sta- Mr. Stark!” The boy couldn’t stand up against the force of his laughter, and sprawled down gracefully. “I- Mr. Stark, if you knew, if you knew what I’ve been doing. I can’t even tell you it’s so awful.” Peter was laughing too hard to continue. “This isn’t even funny, Mr. Stark, it’s so horrible, so terrible, but I can’t stop laughing? I can’t stop laughing!” Peter’s eyes were filled with tears even as guilty laughter continued to force its way out of him.

Tony watched the scene in front of him wide and bewildered eyes. Slowly he knelt down, feeling every inch of his decades on the plant creaking in his bones, to sit down with the object of his affections. Terrified of crossing an unspoken boundary but unwilling to leave the boy without comfort, he reached out an unsteady hand and placed it gently on Peter’s ankle, feeling his silky skin give slightly over the fine bones underneath. Peter tensed but then relaxed under his touch, his uncontrollable laughter slowly tapering off, and breathing slowing into small hitched sounds at the end of every exhale. 

They sat in silence together on the floor for long minutes, finding equilibrium in the simple touch. Tony let the silence envelop them, feeling strangely comfortable with the boy despite the awkward events of the night. When he felt like Peter was calm, when he himself was calm, when the world was calm, Tony began to speak. 

“Hey, I don’t know what you think you’ve done that’s so terrible, but let’s move this to the couch, yeah?”

Peter froze, looking a little miserable again under the blush blooming on his face. 

_Stupid Tony! That was so stupid! Of course he just woke up on the couch after that dream. He’s still covered in cum under those skinny jeans._

“Why don’t we take a break first? You hungry? It’s almost…” Tony checked his watch. “Hell it’s past four, and if I’m getting hungry you must be too, you probably ate with Morgan hours before my dinner. Let me whip us up some sandwiches, you like turkey? While you do ah, whatever it is you need to do...” The awkwardness was back in full force as Tony rambled on about sandwich fillings, and where Peter could find a washcloth in the cabinet under the sink.

Peter’s face was cherry red with mortification and he practically ran to the bathroom, squeaking a quick “thank you Mr. Stark” over his shoulder.


	5. Clean Slates

Peter was still lost in a storm of embarrassed-shocked-confused emotion as he stood naked in Tony Stark’s bathroom.  _ Jesus Christ I’m naked in TONY STARK’s bathroom. What even is my life?  _ Dried up cum was smeared all over his clothes; his underwear, his jeans, even his sweater didn’t escape the dream unscathed. Peter was flushed scarlet from cheeks to mid chest as he grappled with his embarrassment and tried to scrub out the stains with a wet rag, running over the last hour in his mind.

_ Okay so first I came all over myself on his couch like I was fourteen. Then, obviously, Mr. Stark found out? Ugh oh my God maybe he saw me? Okayokay, you can work with that Peter. Because then… He confessed to being attracted to me? Me? Peter Parker? And then, I almost confessed to sucking his dick on the regular but I couldn’t get it out around my hysterical breakdown? Smooth Parker real smooth. Wait, is this a dream? Maybe I’m just still dreaming, or- or- hallucinating from the stress of finals? _

Peter reached down and pinched his thigh hard. 

"Ow. Fuck, I'm actually awake.”

Peter was interrupted by the sound of a bitten back laugh and a hasty knock at the door. All the anxiety that had left while Mr. Stark rested a hand on his ankle rushed back in full force, burning in his stomach and chest like lava. 

“Peter? I’ve got some clothes you can borrow.” The man’s voice was kind but laced with mirth through the closed door.

Peter gave up on his underwear and took the opportunity to splash some cool water on his face, trying to clean the tear tracks that still showed on his pale cheeks. He slipped on his slightly damp sweater, which thankfully hung down to his knees and provided him some decency. Peter unlocked the door and slid it open, taking the clothes but refusing to make eye contact with the older man. 

“Thanks Mr. Stark” he mumbled awkwardly, holding the bundle close to his chest. He stood for a moment before daring to look up at the man, who rewarded his boldness with a gentle smile and nod before sliding the door shut. Peter dropped his chin to sniff at the clothes, taking in the woodsy musk clinging to the soft fabric.  _ God that man smells good. _ He shucked his still damp sweater and pulled the hoodie and sweats on, relishing the velvety softness on his bare skin. 

Walking out of the bathroom into the living room was terrifying. Peter’s heart was fluttering in his chest what felt like a million miles a minute and his palms were sweating. His lithe form was swamped in the comfortable clothes as he padded toward the table, uncertainty dogging his every step. Peter slid awkwardly into the space opposite Mr. Stark, and sat with an awkward smile peeking at the corner of his mouth. 

Peter eyed the sandwich but made no move to pick it up. His stomach was twisted up in anxious knots, and eating felt like some abstract concept rather than something he did multiple times a day. He heard Tony's plate slide across the table, ceramic scratching against the glass and echoing in the otherwise silent room. Peter looked up from the table with cautious eyes, observing the man across from him who was tearing into his food with ravenous bites. 

Tony paused and swallowed before letting out sigh and setting down his sandwich. “You're not hungry?"

Peter looked up at him blushing, still trying to get a handle on sitting in front of the man, wrapped in his clothing and smelling like him. "I'm sorry Mr. Stark, I’m just feeling… a lot. Hungry might be one of the things, but I’m not really sure.”

"Well, I can't force you, but I can say from experience nothing seems as grim after eating a turkey sandwich. Also, kid, I give you full permission to call me Tony. Don’t you think it’s about time?”

Peter tried to imagine calling Mr. Stark ‘Tony’ anywhere outside of his tamer late night fantasies as he picked at the corner of the bread. Every time he opened his mouth no sounds came out. Finally to cover the awkward silence he picked up the sandwich and took a bite. 

"Kid, this is hard for me too." Tony sighed. "Ask anyone who knows me and they would tell you I'm not great at dealing with my feelings."

Peter nodded cautiously around his mouthful of turkey BLT. He’d followed the explosive and extensively reported divorce last year, and accusations about his reluctance to communicate were always part of the lurid tabloid spread. 

"I've been watching you and getting more attached since we met during the summer. It's not just your looks, you're so smart and always thirsting for more just like me. Your sarcastic sense of humor fits right in with mine, and I love the way you interact with my daughter.” Tony made a face at his own statement. “I know, I know, you're paid to do it, but she loves you and having you around. To her it's almost like you're part of her family, and not just a babysitter."

Peter was running on autopilot as he listened to Mr. Stark speak. Half of his sandwich was already gone now that he had a distraction.

"I'd like to get to know you better. I know I'm running the risk of scaring you off, but I've spent months now wanting to ask you on a date, and after tonight… Well, after tonight I'm getting the picture that you might like me too."

Peter blushed neon red at the implication, watching the wolfish grin spread across Tony’s face. The boy blinked owlishly toward Tony as he processed the information he’d been given. 

_ Oh God oh God, he totally did see, and totally knows about the dream. He wants to date me? Attraction is one thing, but dating? Tony Stark wants to date me? Tony Stark wants to date me. _

Tony’s grin broke into a concerned expression as the wheels turned inside Peter’s head and the boy sat silently. “Pete, are you doing okay over there? I have to say, I usually get a bigger reaction than stone cold silence in this kind of situation.”

“You’ve been in this kind of situation before?” The words tumbled out of Peter’s mouth before he could stop them. “Wait, shit, forget I said that!” He giggled nervously.

The man across the table let out a bark of laughter. “You’ve got me there, I’ve never been in a situation quite like this one before.”

Peter finished his sandwich before he began to speak. “I guess it’s my turn to talk... I’d love to get to know you better too. I’ve had this all consuming crush on you since I started babysitting, all my friends tease the hell out of me about it. But first…” Peter took a breath to calm himself before continuing, hands fisted in the sleeves of Mr. Stark’s hoodie. “God, I can’t do this without talking to you first. I have- I have to-” Peter’s voice broke off in his throat as anxiety clenched around his stomach and a cold sweat crept down his spine.

Tony reached across the table to hold Peter’s hands in his. The boy’s pulse was fluttering a million miles a minute as Tony gently ran his thumbs across Peter’s wrists. “You can tell me whatever you need to, just try to relax. We’ve got nothing but time tonight to talk.”

Peter’s breathing finally slowed down to a manageable level, but as he began to speak his stomach started doing flips like he was cresting the top of the Cyclone at Coney Island. “Mr. Stark I have to confess that we’ve been seeing each other more than you think.”

Peter watched the man’s eyes widen a little in surprise before sliding into a carefully neutral expression. 

“On Thursdays… You know on Thursdays? In the afternoon?”

Tony had a peculiar look on his face. Discomfort? Amusement? Maybe both? His hands tightened on Peter’s encouragingly but he didn’t otherwise respond.

“On Thursdays after class I go to the bookstore… You know the one, off 8th by the Starbucks? I go in the back. Mr Star- Tony. Tony, I know you know what I’m talking about. In the back where the booths are. I saw you… Or I saw your watch one time.” Peter scrunched up his face and let the rest of his burning statement loose in one long torrent of words. “Tony I’ve been on the other side of that wall so many times I could recognize your dick in a police lineup.” 

Tony didn’t react, and Peter started to panic again as he watched the man’s face stay so carefully neutral.

“I swear though, oh God I swear I just found out a couple of days ago Mr. Stark. I wouldn’t have kept going if I knew that’s where you went.”

Tony squeezed gently at Peter’s hands. “Kid, you can calm down now. It’s supposed to be anonymous, knowing someone else who visits certainly isn’t a reason to stop going, unless you want it to be.” Tony sighed before continuing. “Peter I appreciate your honesty, but I saw you there all the way back in September. You were leaving and I bumped right into you by the curtain. You were so shy you just kept looking at the floor, and I panicked, so I ran straight past you for the closest booth. I’ve been going back so often, breaking my own rules about when to go, just on the off chance that you’d be there.” His eyes tightened and heat suffused his lowered voice as he continued. “Hell Peter, do you know what that did to me? Seeing you in a place like that? I thought you were so innocent and then bumping into you there? I’ve been obsessing over it since then.”

Peter’s jaw dropped at Tony’s confession, he wasn’t sure if he felt flattered, turned on, or somehow violated. He pulled his hands out of Tony’s grip and began to speak in a stammering voice. “I- I- I can’t believe you’ve known for so long.” The boy glanced at Tony suspiciously. “How did we end up in connected booths so often? It has to have been more than a dozen times by now...”

“Peter,” the man began, humor twisting at the corners of his mouth, “I hate to tell you this, but you’ve been wearing the same two pairs of shoes constantly since I met you.”

The boy grimaced as he thought back on his ratty red Converse and slightly nicer Docs. “Okay, fair point. So you would just go, hoping I was there?”

Tony rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly embarrassed. “I guess you could say that.”

The silence between them stretched as Peter’s shoulders finally relaxed and he processed the conversation. Suddenly, like a rubber band snapping to attention, Peter’s head turned up and he stared Tony right in the eyes.

“Is that it? All the secrets are out from between us?”

Tony ran things over in his head before shrugging and replying with a wry grin. “If there are any more you’ll just have to get to know me and find out.”

Peter gasped in sudden laughter at the man’s cheesy tone, face softening as he gazed across the table. “You know Tony, I’d actually” Peter broke into a yawn, “really like that.” 

“Shit, it’s getting pretty late.” Tony looked regretful. “I’m going to call a car to take you home.”

Peter sputtered, “Tony that’s not necce-”

The man interrupted his protests. “Shh, I’m not letting you take the subway at this time of night. It’s practically morning already.”

Peter acquiesced and watched as Tony sent off a quick text to get the car brought around. 

“It should be downstairs by the time you get down there. Why don’t I walk you out?”

The pair made their way out of the living room and toward the elevator, with Peter stopping to grab his backpack and shoes on the way out. The elevator was waiting as they wandered into the foyer, doors open and light spilling out into the darkened space. 

Tony spoke to his A.I. “Take us down J.” 

The elevator began it’s silent descent all the way down to Tony’s private garage. Peter watched the light change as they passed floor after floor. He could feel tension building between them again, but this time it was like a buzzing under his skin. Peter shifted nervously from where he stood, back to the wall near Tony and tilted his head up to look the man in the eye. 

He started to speak, “Mr. Sta-” and broke off into a squeak as he was suddenly pinned against the wall of the elevator, chest to chest and thigh to thigh with the slightly taller man he’d been lusting over. 

Tony lifted his hands to cup the sides of Peter’s face. 

“Peter,” the man breathed out, “I’m going to kiss you now.”

Tony leaned in and claimed Peter’s lips with his own in the kind of all consuming kiss Peter had only read about in Aunt May’s stash of romance novels. Peter whimpered at the firm pressure against his mouth, and feeling Tony’s tongue delicately trace the parting of his lips, he let his mouth fall open to be plundered. The boy’s hands flew up to grasp at Tony’s arms, holding on for dear life as his head began to spin and he relaxed into Tony’s firm hold, swirling his tongue around Tony’s. The man slid a hand into Peter’s hair before gripping it carefully and tilting Peter’s head to the side. 

Tony broke off the kiss to say, “Chemistry? Check!” lowly into Peter’s ear, with a cheeky grin Peter could feel brushing against him.

Peter’s unspoken response lapsed off into a surprised moan as Tony began to nibble and lick along the graceful line of his neck, sucking in love bites across his sensitive skin. “Shit, Da- Mr. St- Tony, ahh.”

He could feel himself blossoming to full hardness and was embarrassed to be so taken apart by a kiss and a few nibbles, until it registered that he could feel Tony reacting too through the layers of fabric between them. Suddenly the doors opened with a ding.

“Fuck!” Tony said in a gravelly voice, drawing back from Peter’s neck. “Sounds like this is our stop.”

The man looked deep into Peter’s kiss dazed eyes and leaned in for more, just little pecks on his swollen lips. 

“You.” Kiss. “Are.” Kiss. “So.” Kiss. “Gorgeous.” Kiss. 

Peter’s world had been thouroughly rocked, and he had to stop to adjust himself for decency before following Tony out of the elevator. The man motioned for the driver of the discreet black sedan to stay put before opening the backseat for Peter, and ushering him into the car. 

Peter slid into the black leather interior with a grateful smile. “Goodnight Tony.” 

“Goodnight Peter.” Tony grinned down at him. “I’ll text you to set something up.” 

The car door shut with a solid thunk and Peter relaxed back into his seat, still feeling warm and cozy in Tony’s sweats and hoodie as he was driven back to his dorm.

It was a few weeks before Tony and Peter could find the time to meet up together on one of Pepper’s weekends with Morgan, and Peter was working himself into a tizzy over their date. Clothes were strewn across every surface of his dorm except the nightstand, where his tablet was displaying Ned and MJ’s smirking faces. 

Peter whined toward the camera. “C'mon guys, you’re supposed to be helping me pick out my outfit for tonight, not ribbing me about my date!”

His best friends weren’t exactly the picture of support as they teased him over his dreams finally coming true. 

MJ piped up from the screen. “Relax nerd, he already knows you don’t have a huge wardrobe. It’s not like you’re the billionaire in this scenario.”

“I know MJ!” Peter cried out before adding in a pout, “I want to look good though!”

Ned laughed as he spoke. “Too bad he didn’t Pretty Woman you a whole new wardrobe Peter.” 

Peter’s tone was scandalized. “Oh my God Ned I’m not a prostitute! This is not a Pretty Woman or even a sugar baby situation. I just like him okay, I wouldn’t ever take advantag-” He was interrupted from his rant by a knock on the door of his dorm room. “Hang on guys, there’s somebody here?”

The boy answered the door curiously, only to find a courier on the other side. 

“Peter Parker?”

“Uh, that’s me…”

“Sign here and here please.”

Peter reached out and took the offered stylus, signing on the tablet brandished in front of him. The courier traded the pen for a large shopping bag from a boutique he’d never heard of before. Peter took the bag with confusion before stepping back into the dorm and walking on stunned legs toward his twin bed. As soon as he came into view MJ and Ned started squawking for his attention from on screen. 

“Peter!” MJ cried out, “What’s in the bag?”

“Yeah, show us!” Ned parroted.

There was a card in the top of the bag which Peter opened with bated breath. The card read “I saw these and thought of you. Will you wear them for me tonight? -TS

“This is from Tony.” Peter said softly, a goofy smile growing on his face.

“Uh Peter, it’s obviously from Tony” replied MJ, “Who else would send you a mysterious courier package right before your first date with a billionaire?”

Peter laughed and pulled out the white paper boxes from the bag. He opened the top box and flicked the paper aside to reveal the most gorgeous dark green sweater he’d ever seen in his life. He caressed it with a gentle hand before holding it up in front of his body to show off for the camera. 

“Guys, I think this is cashmere. God it’s so soft.”

He rubbed the fabric of one sleeve against his cheek with a dreamy expression.

“What’s in the other box?” Ned piped up.

“I guess we’ll find out!” Peter replied. 

He opened the next box and blushed scarlet before shoving it closed again. 

MJ and Ned cracked up over the camera watching his face. “What was it, what was it?” They choroused in unison. 

“Nothing!” Peter snapped. 

“I bet it was something pretty and lacy!” MJ singsonged at him. 

“Lacy?” asked Ned. 

“Lacy!” she confirmed back, smug grin stretched across her face on screen.

Unfortunately (or fortunately?) they were right.  _ How does Mr. Stark even know that I…. Oh my god I left my clothes in his bathroom.  _ Peter’s breathing went shallow for a second before he shoved that thought into a locked cabinet in his mind, wanting to find out what was in the other box more than he wanted to have an anxiety ridden freakout. He opened the third box to find a gorgeous pair of dark denim skinny jeans that looked like they would fit perfectly. 

“Hang on you two, I’m going to get dressed and show you the spoils.”

Peter flipped his tablet face down on the nightstand, he didn’t particularly feel like giving his best friends a free show. He shed his clothes and stood naked in his dorm before opening that damning second box again. Inside were a selection of beautiful silky lace trimmed panties, in a rainbow of colors. Peter hesitated for a moment before selecting the hot-rod red pair. It wasn’t exactly that he was expecting to get lucky, but he figured he could at least get in a little teasing about wearing Tony’s favorite color. He slid on the sinfully cool panties up his hairless legs, shivering in pleasure as they settled around his dick. Peter quickly pulled on the jeans, and as expected they fit like a glove, cut slim across his thighs and hugging his ass. The cashmere sweater slipped on easily over his head, fitting against him close to his body. He paused to flip the tablet back up, showing off his new outfit. 

“Wow, Peter, you look great!” Ned chimed in at the same time that MJ let out a roguish wolf whistle. 

“Looking good Parker! Give us a spin!” 

Peter did as she asked, blushing at the attention before asking, “I look good? Everything is so… tight.” 

“Peter, you might as well take advantage of that perfect twinky body. If I looked like you I’d be a damn model by now.” Ned’s voice rang out clear in the quiet room as MJ nodded in agreement.

The trio kept chatting, with Peter getting more and more comfortable in his new outfit before a notification sounded out from Peter’s phone, which he quickly read and smiled softly to himself. 

“Hey guys, looks like it’s time for me to head out, Tony’s sending a car to pick me up.”

“Bye Peter!” Ned waved before disappearing from the chat.

“Bye Twinky twink! Have fun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” MJ teased affectionately before hanging up.


End file.
